Crime Fiction

Midday

Midday

Leonardelli waited and then slipped his arm through Trotti’s.
Together they walked along the corridors of the third floor. ‘You’re still coming to work on your bicycle?’
‘It’s my wife’s idea,’ Trotti said. ‘She says it’ll keep me fit.’
‘I must say you’re looking well.’
‘Unfortunately, when I’m in a hurry to get home – or when in rains – I have to take a taxi.’
‘But a bicycle is healthy. I think I’ll have to follow your example. There’s no excuse now that the centre of the city is free of cars.’